"How's retirement suiting you, Commander?" Her best friend, Garrus, asks mockingly.
After years in service to the Alliance military, they'd forcefully retired Vecia. If they thought giving her a decently high stipend and multiple freedoms would placate her, they were very wrong. She only ever really felt right when she had a gun in her hand and a half dead sheild.
"You know very well just how my retirement is suiting me Vakarian," she sneers.
"I know," a sigh, "what they did wasn't right. We miss you out there, Shepard. You were a damn good Commander. Tali doesn't feel right taking your place."
"I'd much rather her, than the alternative." The sound of his omnitool pinging to life brings fourth a wistful breath from Shepard.
"Go, go. Have Fun. Kill a few mercs for me," she grins and waves his apologies off.
Sitting alone in the small cafe, her eyes roam, spotting every nook and cranny where the ememy could take her out. It's been months since she had a half decent fight, the last one a drunken brawl in a bar on the Presidium, but that hadn't dulled her senses even a little. All of the fair fighters were off-limits to her, and would be considered murder if she went vigilante. Perhaps bounty hunting would be how she fulfilled her now boring civilian days.
Taking the elevator to the Zakera Ward, and then a skycar to her apartments, she stares blankly out at the scenery. How does anyone live like this? Doing the same thing, day after day? She bustles around her apartment, cleaning to give herself the illusion of productivity. Tossing a shirt into the hamper, Vecia stops to admire the setting sun from her window. She paid decent money to have a top floor with the best view. Her eyes wander until they stop on a dark splotch on the side of one of the finer buildings in the Zakera Ward. Rapidly moving up, she decides that it's a person.
Vecia quickly grabs her sniper rifle from the gun rack hidden in her wall, using the scope to better assess the situation. A Drell from the coloring, different shadings of green and the frills give it away. He moves quickly, efficiently, scaling the side of the building determinedly. A black coat flutters as skycars zoom by unaware. Her breath hitches in excitement. An assassin, she can kill. Her fingers itches against the trigger as her mind wars against itself. It would be wrong to kill a man unaware. She opens the window and steps onto the balcony, readying her rifle on the rail as she turns on her lazor pointer, as she so fondly calls it.
He freezes in the scope as the red dot dances just off to his left side. She steadies her aim and fires one warning shot at him, watching as it harmlessly bounces off of his shattering shield. The next shot would penetrate. He panics and breaks a window, escaping into the building as another muted shot breaks the glass next to him. Vecia curses loudly as he leaves her sight, she was never very good with a sniper rifle.